


Twinkle

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-03
Updated: 2007-07-03
Packaged: 2019-05-15 13:51:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14791721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Someone says the wrong thing at the wrong time.





	Twinkle

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

****

Twinkle 

CJ, Danny, OMCs, OFCs – completely AU; fantasy (or is it?) 

Rating Adult – mentions of “coarse” words 

Spoilers through end of series. Also may contain spoilers for “Holding Hands on the Way Down”. 

Not mine, never were, never will be, but they consume my soul 

Feedback and criticism always welcomed 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

April 4, 2014; Kensington, CA 

CJ woke up, as she usually did, with her head nestled in the underarm of her husband. For a minute, she just breathed in the combination of scents that uniquely identified him to her. 

Then, remembering the previous night, she blushed. Did she really say that? It’s not as if she had never used the word before, but she had never used it while in bed with either of her husbands, never used it to refer to what they did with each other. She always thought of it as something too ordinary, something that was disrespectful of what first she and Paul, then she and Danny, and now again she and Paul had. She wondered what her husband thought. Unconsciously, she pressed a kiss on Paul’s chest as she moved to raise her head and rest it on his shoulder and upper arm. 

Paul turned his head to kiss the top of his wife’s as he felt her stir against him. He thought back to the events of last night and then to those of the night before last. He knew they had reached a turning point in their young marriage. They had skirted a potentially dangerous situation, but they needed to talk about what had happened, to make sure they were not making assumptions. 

April 2, 2014 

Paul had been prepared for it to happen. CJ and he had even talked about it in the two months between the night he asked her to marry him and the wedding ceremony in Napa. They both knew it was only a matter of time. He had been prepared to be understanding. He had been prepared to be reassuring. He had been prepared to be loving and light, to laugh it off and to proceed to make gentle yet very passionate love with her, to wipe away any doubts, any embarrassment. 

Paul had not been prepared to be the one to do it. However, two nights ago, in this very bed, while holding her, while kissing and caressing her, while moving his body over and between her legs, he did. He heard the words almost before he said them, but was powerless to stop them. 

“Oh, Lissy, I want you so much.” 

A brief second of silence, of two breaths being held, then “CJ, sweetheart, I am so sorry!”Paul could feel the heat of shame suffuse his body. His ego never entertained the idea that he would be the first one to slip, that he would hurt CJ with the use of his first wife’s name. He moved to her side. “Damn it!” 

CJ reached over to him, caressed his jaw, and kissed him. 

“It’s all right. We both said it would happen sooner or later.” 

She could feel the heat of his body and knew that he was embarrassed. His ego, huge as it was, was at this point very fragile and she wasn’t sure how to react to the situation. This was uncharted territory. She had become accustomed to his confidence, as she had those thirty years ago. 

After everything that had happened in the past eighteen months, she was still glad to be taken care of, to let him do the emotional heavy lifting. There had been just the two issues of contention since November. She agreed that he was right about sharing responsibility for the children; he agreed that she had made the right decision about hosting two international students for Thanksgiving dinner. When he told her how he had handled Paddy’s outburst when she had the flu, she agreed with his actions after only a small comment about the shipping and handling charge. She didn’t feel she was being managed, but at one level, she knew he was doing so. She felt that their life together was the classic “smooth sailing” one. 

And now this. Why did it have to be him? She would rather have the embarrassment be on her than on him. __

“He’s hurting so much, he’s mortified,” Alicia could almost feel tears in her eyes. “CJ, girlfriend, you’ve got to help him! Seduce him! Once you get him started, his natural assertiveness will exert itself, he’ll take you as high as he’s ever taken you, and then you can talk about it, get past it." 

“It doesn’t bother you?” Danny asked. “Paul called her by your name.” 

“No, he was, for a moment, in another time. And in that time, he does love me that way, does want me that way. Just as, in another time, she feels the same way about you. Would it really have bothered you if had been her saying someone else's name?” 

“Yeah,” Danny answered honestly, “I think it would have. I guess that’s one of the differences between men and women.” 

Perhaps, if there had been light, CJ would have seen the rare veil of self-doubt in Paul’s eyes, would have known that for once, perhaps for the only time in their life together, he needed her to take charge. But they lay there in the darkness, still in each other’s arms, each waiting for the other to react. __

“Damn and double-damn!” Alicia was frustrated. “We need to fix this! And **you** shut up!” She looked over at a cackling Wilgefortis (the patron saint of unhappily married women) and stuck out her tongue. 

Danny agreed that the situation shouldn’t last for long. However, he was pretty sure that, despite what she had said, CJ was maybe just a teensy bit hurt, and it wouldn’t kill Paul to do without for one night. (He tried not to think about what doing without for one night might mean to CJ). 

Eventually, Paul and CJ fell asleep. It was the first night, other than those with cause - the time that he was ill, the time that she was ill, the night of the anniversary of Danny’s death, and the two days at the end of February when she experienced a light period (“I guess I’m not totally an old lady”) - they had not made love since their wedding. 

April 3, 2014 

The next morning was hectic. Paddy was going on a field trip at preschool and had to be there by 8:15 for the bus. There was cautious light morning verbal affection as CJ and Paul prepared for the day, a rushed kiss as she ran out the door with the boy, but no time to talk. 

Sometime during the day, CJ realized what she should have realized last night. The foundations of a wall between them, a wall that must not be built, had been started last night. If he didn’t make the first move that evening, she had to be ready to show him that she wasn’t hurt, wasn’t fearful about her place in his heart, wasn’t concerned about his memories of Alicia. 

After supper, after CJ had finished reading to her son, she checked the locks, turned out the kitchen and family room lights, and entered her husband’s study. She knelt on the loveseat beside Paul, took the scholarly journal from his hands, and crushed her open mouth against his. 

After a minute or so, he tried to pull her down across his body. CJ resisted and stood up, pulling on his arms to get him to rise with her. Then she shut off the lamp and, still pulling on Paul’s arms, walked backward toward the bedroom wing. 

They kissed each other passionately, desperately, as they undressed each other and fell on the bed. 

CJ knew what she needed from Paul; she knew what he needed to give her. So she put her mouth next to his ear and whispered the words. 

“Fuck me hard, Paul. Fuck me hard.” __

“CJ!” The only times Danny had ever heard her use that word, it had nothing to do with sex, let alone loving sex. 

“It’s what they need now,” Alicia said. 

“How did you get so smart? For a one-man woman, you sure know a lot.” 

“I was married to him for more than twenty years. When he gets unsure of himself, it’s the best way to get him back on track. Make sure he knows that he’s needed as a man. And believe me, she needs to be shown. The two of you never went through this?” 

Danny thought about it. “Yeah, we did, but I think we were able to realize it without one of us having to verbalize it. Anyway, I thought his constant self-assuredness got on your nerves at times, that maybe, every once in a blue moon, you wanted him to have some doubt.” 

“Part of me did, but the better part of me knew that it was precisely that self-assuredness that allowed him to be so loving to me and the kids, so even-tempered, so gracious no matter the situation. Anyway, I think they’re on the right track. Let’s go over to Saturn and get some pizza.” 

After it was over, after Paul had raised himself on his arms and relentlessly thrust into CJ, after she had met every thrust with one of her own, lifting her hips from the bed to meet his with a resounding “thud”, after they climaxed together in shouts that caused her glasses to fall from the nightstand, he grabbed hold of her right hip and rotated backwards, pulling her with him. 

As he stroked CJ’s hair, Paul kept whispering “Sweetheart”, still wondering if he would ever find a secret name for her. Nothing captured the way he felt when he was with her. Danny’s “Jeannie” came close, but that belonged to the two of them. “Didi” didn’t suit her; neither did “Gabby”, from her confirmation name. So, for now, he fell back on the term he had chanced upon when they were first together, relying on the hoarseness that overtook his throat when passion overtook his heart (“my private Barry White”, she said with a smile) to convey what she meant to him. 

Meanwhile, CJplayed with Paul’s chest hair and kissed his throat, pulling him closer to her with the right leg that was hooked against the back of his thighs. 

They drifted off to sleep before he slipped from her body. 

April 4, 2014 

Paul only had one appointment this morning, at 11:00. They could spend extra time with each other. 

He moved his head back so he could see CJ’s face and kissed her mouth. Breaking away, Paul traced her brows, the curve of her nose, and the outline of her jaw with his index finger. 

“I love you, CJ. I loved you then and I love you now. And in between, I think I loved you subconsciously, especially after 1998, when I found out where you were and what you were doing with your life. I would never hurt you, either physically or emotionally. Please forgive me for -” 

CJ reached up and put her fingers against Paul’s mouth. 

“There’s nothing to forgive; we both said it was bound to happen. We both said that it would be foolish to pretend that we weren’t happily married to someone else, that we weren’t deeply in love with someone else. That’s why we have all those pictures of you and Alicia, all those pictures of Danny and me, on the credenza in the living room. That’s why the sketches of the twins are in your study. That’s why there are pictures of Danny and Alicia in the kids’ rooms. And that’s why I asked you if I could make a reduced copy of that sketch of you and keep a copy on my desk over there. (She didn’t tell him about the copy of the sketch, the one Alicia had labeled “Morning Has Broken”, that she kept in her desk at work, away from the eyes of her assistant and her visitors, but always there when she opened the drawer. In the politically correct world of Berkeley, “pinup pictures” of either sex were taboo.) 

“I know you love me, Paul. You show me every day, and not just here, in bed. You are my rock.” 

Paul kissed her fingers. 

“But there is. Something for you to forgive, something for which I need to apologize.” 

Paul told her that he had assumed that she would be the one, that she would use Danny’s name. He told her that he had planned to be “Mr. Perfect” about it. He told her that his ego, his pride, was his biggest sin, that he needed her to let him know when he was getting too over the top. 

“If only you weren’t right about it 99 percent of the time,” CJ laughed. “And, about that. I should have been more proactive, should have let you know right away by actions and not just words, that it wasn’t an issue. I guess I was waiting for you to take the lead. See what happens with a submissive wife?” She smiled up at him. 

Paul smiled back and snuggled his groin closer to hers. “Submissive? CJ, sweetheart, you are **not** submissive, by any means, and I wouldn’t want you that way.” He kissed her nose. “The truth of the matter is, you are extremely intelligent and therefore you know that I happen to be right just about all the time.” 

“Then let’s say, I’m so used to deferring to your ‘rightness’ that I didn’t react when you were wrong, when you didn’t pick up and continue to make love to me – with me,” she corrected herself before he could. She could feel him growing against her. It was going to be a nice morning. She moved her legs in order to press her groin against his and then winced slightly. 

“Sweetheart?” Paul’s eyes noticed the slight grimace. 

“Just a little sore from last night. A **good** sore,” CJ emphasized, wanting to erase the trace of guilt that started creeping over his face. “Remember, I was the one who asked. And about that, I don’t know where that word came from - ” 

“According to educated opinion, it’s of Anglo-Saxon derivation, and isn’t an acronym for anything,” Paul laughed and kissed CJ’s mouth, then moved his head down toward her breast and his hand toward the juncture of her legs. 

“I mean, it’s come to denote something tawdry, or uncaring, not what we have,” she stopped and sighed as his fingers, having (as always) ascertained that she was ready to receive him, moved lightly over her core, then slightly harder, then lightly again. 

“No more linguistics lessons,” Paul softly ordered as he gently pushed CJ to the bed and came over her, watching her face, prepared to stop his entry at the first sign of any discomfort. 

“Ma! Ma! Mamamama Ma! Ma!” Caitlin’s voice changed from glee to wail as it came over the baby monitor. 

Earlier in the week when this happened, Paul had managed a “quickie” for himself (and then took care of CJ’s frustration in the shower after the baby had been changed and given a couple of banana slices). 

But today, Paul wanted to be slow and tender, so they each groaned, then looked at each other and smiled. Then they got up, CJ to tend to Caitlin, he to take a shower. 

CJ came into the master bath as he was shaving, and she sat on the commode seat, holding the child. Paul had already put some toothpaste on her toothbrush and set it by her vanity. She brushed with one hand, admiring his nude profile, and rinsed. 

“This is getting to be a pattern. I’m wondering if morning sex will become a distant memory for us,” she commented. 

“When the twins were seven, we started putting some milk in a small plastic pitcher in the fridge on Friday nights. Saturday mornings became the one day of the week they were allowed to eat cold, pre-sweetened cereal, and the one day they were allowed to eat it in the family room in front of the television.” Paul smiled at her. 

“Caitlin won’t be seven for another five and a half years,” CJ pouted. 

“Paddy will be in full-day kindergarten starting in the fall. And this little one should be ready for a morning or two of day-care a week. We just need to arrange our schedules so that we are both free for at least one morning a week. Of course, one of us would have to drive the kids, but the other could be peeling and seeding the grapes, putting the rose petals in the bed, unplugging the phones. There are always ways.” Paul put down his razor, wiped his face, and walked over to her. “We can always set the alarm for an hour earlier.” He bent down to kiss her, his hand caressing the child’s head, down her back, and then up her mother’s arm. 

Paul dressed, woke up Paddy, and fed the children while CJ showered. 

Later, as he was leaving for campus, Paul asked CJ if she wanted him to pick up something for lunch. 

“We’re having fettuccine with white clam sauce for supper. Get something for you and Paddy and just a salad for me.” CJ was keeping the Lenten abstinence. 

After lunch, they took the kids walking, with Paul carrying Caitlin on his shoulders. They stopped at the local playground and let the kids use have fun with the swings, the slide, and the seesaw. 

Paul’s cell rang. It was Derrick. He had found sitters for this coming Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights. No, the girl he would be bringing to dinner on Friday was just a friend, someone who greatly admired his famous stepmother. 

Dartmouth had made it to the Frozen Four, which was being played in Seattle this year. Many of Paul’s old teammates were going to be there to lend their support, especially since they were the ones who had last made it this far, getting third place in 1979 and 1980. So Paul, CJ, and the kids were going to drive up on Wednesday and Thursday and stay until Sunday. Paul didn’t think he would get a chance to introduce CJ to his old friends until next year, when his class would be celebrating reunion, so the NCAA hockey tournament was a pleasant surprise and he was glad he was able to get someone to cover for his teaching assignments on Wednesday, Thursday and then Monday. Dartmouth would be facing a strong Michigan team in the semis, so the team might not make the finals on Saturday, but Paul was hoping. 

Paul and CJ had hoped that the walk and the playground would tire Paddy, but the child had no desire to take a nap that afternoon. However, the stolen kisses and caresses only made the night more anticipated. 

Later that evening 

CJ finished the chapter of the book she was reading to Paddy, closed the volume, and reached down to kiss the little boy. 

“Mama, I’m not tired. I don’t want to go to sleep.” 

“Then you can color or play with your transformers. You just have to stay on the bed and in your room.” 

Earlier, when CJ had told him it was time for bed, Paddy had made a similar fuss. Then Paul fixed him with a stare and said his name; the little boy got up, kissed his Papa goodnight, grabbed onto CJ’s hand, and went to the bedroom wing of the house. CJ sighed, but she knew it was typical for his age; fathers were stronger authority figures than mothers. She smiled as she remembered the way Danny handled the little boys back in Santa Monica. Manny Hammash had Eric Cartman’s “But, Mo-o-o-o-o-om-mm!” down pat, but one look from Danny shut him up in an instant. 

As she shut Paddy’s door, CJ noticed that the rest of the house was dark; the only light was a dim one coming from their bedroom. She checked on Caitlin and went to her husband. 

Paul was sitting cross-legged on the bed but rose as she came into the room. He had turned on the electric candles and was wearing burgundy silk pajama bottoms. There were two brandy snifters of an amber liquid on the nightstand. 

Paul grasped CJ to him, his hand holding her head in place while he kissed her. 

“As I recall, we were doing this about 13 hours ago and it was quite pleasant,” he said. 

“I’ll. Be. Right. Back.” 

CJ kissed him once for each word and backed away from him, heading toward the bathroom. She stopped in the dressing area between the main part of the bedroom and the bath, opening a drawer and finding the negligee he had given her for Christmas. 

Three minutes later, she was back at his side. 

“I like seeing you in the candlelight,” CJ whispered into Paul’s ear. “Maybe we should see about getting one of those ventless wood stoves in here.” 

“Good idea.” He kissed her nose, and handed her one of the snifters. 

“This cordial that Aisling developed is quite good, isn’t it?” Paul breathed in the vapors from his glass. 

Aisling was studying biology and chemistry at St. Andrews in Scotland with the intent to become a child psychiatrist, but Angus was also training her to take over the MacDonald distillery. Angus felt that Ash had the best nose and the best skill of her generation. For years, Angus had tried to develop something to compete with the best Scotch liqueurs and creams, but nothing he concocted stood out above the Drambuies, the Lochan Oras, and the products of the other small distilleries. However, Aisling had managed to come up with a blend of honey, herbs, and spices that Angus felt was worthy of the MacDonald name and was planning to sell it next fall. For now, only family members were aware of it and the amber liquid had brightened Danny’s last days. 

“Yes. Robin says that Angus will formally turn over the distillery to her when she gets her degrees.” CJ set down her glass, took the one from his hand, and set it beside its mate. “But I’d rather you held something else.” 

Even in the dim light of the electric candles, she could see the glimmering, glinting twinkle in Paul’s eyes that accompanied the smile on his mouth. “Why not do both?” He picked up one of the glasses in one hand, and led her to one of the easy chairs with the other. Sitting down, he pulled her onto his lap, took a small sip from the glass, and then kissed her, passing some of the liqueur to her mouth. 

A few minutes later, Paul had untied the top of CJ’s negligee and was tracing the circumference of her left areola with a finger that had been dipped in the liquid. Replacing the finger with his mouth, his hand had crept under the hem of her gown and was bringing her to satisfaction. 

After CJ finished quaking, Paul nudged her to her feet and led her to their bed. Her gown fell to the floor as they walked. He stripped off his pajamas and eased himself over her. He entered her slowly, again watching her face for any sign of discomfort from the previous day’s activity. Now, as on their wedding night, his path was unimpeded but the fit was hand in glove. Now, as on their wedding night, he took an unrepentant primal male satisfaction in the knowledge that while he might not be noticeably larger than her first husband, neither was he noticeably smaller. __

“Is there really a lot of difference in men?” Alicia asked Brianna. “My personal knowledge is limited to Paul and a few models in studio class.” The two of them were sitting by Rainbow Bridge, eating chocolates and drinking Poinsettias. Hugh and Jem were practicing for the caber toss at the upcoming Heavenly Highland Games; Danny was throwing sticks with Pistol at the far edge of the land around the Bridge. 

“And me own to Jem, Danny, and Hugh. Me cousin Moira told me that there ken be quite a bit of difference, but that since most of the feeling is from the center, ye understand, what a man does with wha’ he has is more important. However, she did say that being filled ta capacity feels much better than having to be constantly squeezin’ in. An’ Moira, she put more store by a heavy set of balls, she liked the feel of them hitting against her bottom. But then again, she was one of ‘em that enjoyed a playful spanking, so take that wi’ a grain o’ salt. 

“In any event, from best as I can judge, Danny might have been a wee bit longer than Paul, at most a half-inch, but Paul appears to be thicker ‘round, so it likely evens out in the end. And as far as Moira’s ideas about the scrotum, it appears that the two of them are well-gifted in that respect.” And Hugh was larger than either of them, larger than Jem as well, but this was knowledge Brianna was keeping to herself. 

Danny heard the last of the conversation and was glad to know that he stacked up and was a bit embarrassed that it mattered to him, even now. He decided that he didn’t want to interrupt the ladies, to let them know that he was in earshot, and so crept away, wondering where Jem and Hugh were. 

“I wonder why women never wonder about the comparative size of their vaginas.” Alicia laughed. 

“Because men want us to worry about the size of our boobs.” 

Paul braced himself on his forearms, his right hand folding both of hers against the top of her head, his eyes still staring into hers. 

“Sweetheart, put your legs around me.” He loved the depth he felt when CJ did that. Still Paul moved gently and slowly, but kept himself pushed deep inside her, knowing that he was giving her the contact she needed. 

“I love you, CJ, I love being with you like this.” 

Paul buried his face in CJ’s neck, kissed her throat over and over. He wanted to make this last, he wanted to come with her this time. 

CJ moved her head, her lips touching first his brow, then the bridge of his nose. Her voice came in small pants. 

“Love. You. Want. You. More. More.” 

Later, when CJ’s feet began to beat against his butt, Paul knew that he was about to take her to where she needed to go and he lifted himself unto his hands and increased the intensity and the rhythm, pulling out slightly before thrusting, but not as hard as he did the previous night. As he felt her begin her quiver, he let loose with a guttural cry, and pressed in hard while she went over the edge. 

Paul collapsed against her torso for a minute, then pulled CJ with him as he rolled to his side, kissing her eyes and her nose. 

“My lady, my love, my ladylove, my ladylove.” Finally, he had a name for her, a name for just the two of them. 

After a few minutes, CJ reached to trace his mustache, then his eyebrows. 

“That was - ”, she struggled for the right word. 

“Ethereal,” Paul suggested. 

“Yes, but also sacred, almost - ”. 

“Sacramental.” Again, he completed her thought. 

Well, he was the theologian, CJ thought. “And that’s why I wonder where I came up with, you know, what I said last night.” 

“Because we both knew that we needed to know that we are physically bound to each other, that we each, in a way, own each other’s bodies, that we each have the right to demand satisfaction from each other.” 

“But that word seems so harsh, so lacking in the love that underlies that right.” 

“All of them do.” Paul ran his hand down CJ’s spine, made a little circle on her butt, and then lifted in hand to her neck and repeated the action. 

“All what?” CJ asked. 

“All the other words. Bone. Poke. Stick. Pound. Pile-drive. Dick. Bang. Hump. Shag. Nail. Boink. None of them have the connotation of love, of caring.” 

“But neither do they imply the crassness that ‘fuck’ does.” 

“Because it has come to mean doing something for spite, for meanness, for assertiveness, to inflict degrading feelings,” Paul answered, “but let’s not spoil this afterglow.” 

Paul began to kiss CJ again, lightly, all over her face. She responded with little kisses and caresses of her own. Their bodies began to prepare themselves for an encore performance. 

And no one except God in His heaven and one anxiously waiting little soul knew that one little sperm cell from Paul and CJ’s first lovemaking had broken away from the others and was being drawn to its destiny, was swimming to the little ovum that was a little over half-way down her right fallopian tube. 

This time, Paul pulled CJ’s right leg over his left hip and scissored her left one between his. With his right arm under her head and around her shoulders, his left hand held her backside tight against him as, rampant once more, he slipped inside her. 

The walls that had started to rise up two nights ago were obliterated. __

“Alicia!” 

Danny came running up to her. 

“Look! See what’s happening!” Danny pointed to the bedroom in the hills above Berkeley. 

“Danny!” she scolded. “You know we shouldn’t watch!” She was glad that the two of them had worked out this crisis of Paul using her name while making love to CJ, but if she and Danny stopped to watch every time that Paul and CJ made love, a) Danny and Alicia would start getting envious and b) they would have no time to Swirl and to enjoy everything that heaven had to offer. 

“No, not them, well, yes, but not really. See that?” Danny pointed to the almost imperceptible twinkle of light entering the bedroom. It hovered above the couple locked in embrace. “That’s Mrs. Ken – I mean, Jackie.” 

The twinkle burrowed into CJ, then flashed inside her. The couple in the bed, with eyes only for each other, were unaware of what had just happened, would not know for almost three months. 

“Oh, Danny!” 

“If all goes well, and we should start praying up a storm that it does, we’ll have a little girl in January.” 

Caught up in the moment, Alicia began to move around him in a circle. Caught up in the moment, he duplicated her action. Before they realized it, they had built up their own little set of walls, but not before a set of Alicia’s came tumbling down. ****

Epilog 

“What was I doing, Papa? That time Paddy and Caitlin were in the swings?” 

“Dansha darling, that was when you were just a twinkle in my eye.” 


End file.
